


Finish What You Started

by battleshidge (Amiria_Raven)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Makeouts, Voltron is a bar, definitely klance, not quite nsfw, shameless klance fluff, shidge is here if you squint a little, taxi driver au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-29 00:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7662325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amiria_Raven/pseuds/battleshidge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You were right,” Keith breathed, looking up at Lance with a fire in his eyes. “I did start this,” he lifted his chin, pressing a soft kiss to Lance’s jaw. And another. And another. Lance thought it was torture—sweet, sweet torture. And then that challenge sparked in Keith’s eyes again as he asked, tone low and resonant, “Are you going to finish it?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finish What You Started

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rhapsodyinpink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhapsodyinpink/gifts).



> MY FIRST KLANCE FIC EVERY, AND IT WAS INSPIRED BY [rhapsodyinpink](http://archiveofourown.org/users/rhapsodyinpink/pseuds/rhapsodyinpink) and her FATHER, if you'd believe that.
> 
> I'll tell the story at the end :D

Being a taxi driver wasn’t the most illustrious job.

Okay, that was an understatement, and Lance knew it. And the worst part was that he didn’t even  _ like _ his job. He was an unglorified chauffeur, carting random people around the city and getting bitched at if they were caught in the traffic jams that always seemed to pop up at the most inopportune moments. Namely, when people had somewhere to be and needed to be there five minutes ago.

And then there were the crazy days.

He’d driven arguing couples home from parties. He’d had people making out, groping, and probably even fucking in his backseat. Lance tried very hard to ignore it when his windows started to steam up. Trying to get drunks home was always great, and he hated the possibility of being responsible for them so it was always with a mixed feeling of relief and trepidation when he watched some intoxicated individual stumble, giggling, from his taxi and through whatever doorway they fumbled with. He’d had people moan and whimper and cry about how shitty their day or their week or their  _ life _ was and  _ how was he supposed to deal with that?  _ He didn’t drive a taxi to be their goddamned therapists, and he sure as hell didn’t get paid enough to try.

But…this guy was different, somehow.

His face had been pinched with frustration when he flagged Lance down, but that wasn’t really Lance’s problem. Lance had about an hour left on the clock and he’d drive this guy from point A to point B and maybe score one more customer afterwards before going home and crashing with a beer and an attempt at cooking something edible for dinner.

Or that had been his intention, but as he peered into his rearview mirror, waiting for instructions on where to go, he started to suspect that this broody fellow would be throwing a wrench in those plans.

“Where to?” Lance finally prodded, and the businessman cast a sharp look forward, as if he hadn’t realized where he was even though he’d only just climbed in the taxi.

“Just…drive around. Anywhere,” he said shortly, and turned to look back at the building he’d probably just exited. Lance thought about asking him to make sure he knew that he’d have to pay the mileage just like any point A to point B customer, but he bit his tongue at the last second. He wasn’t quite sure why, but he didn’t want to prod this guy.

Instead, he turned on his blinker and pulled the car roughly out into the street, ahead of another taxi, and started to drive.

Lance didn’t even really pay attention to where he was driving. He just weaved through the streets and traffic as dusk fell, occasionally glancing up to his mirror in order to silently observe his pensive passenger. The man’s expressions changed very little—all of them were annoyed, frustrated, or just grumpy. 

He had an attractive face, though, and Lance was sure he would look even better if he smiled.

The thought surprised him at first, but a few more turns and another glance at the handsome man’s reflection only made it seem natural. Lance had never been shy about exploring his romantic options, after all, and this man fell into a category that very few had ever fit so well. He was  _ exactly _ Lance’s type of guy.

Under that business suit, he moved with a steady grace that belied an athlete’s upbringing. It was the first thing Lance had noticed when the man had flagged his taxi down. He had incredibly soft-looking black hair, attractively unkempt, and under his heavy brow, weighed down by business plans or something that Lance probably couldn’t even begin to fathom, rested a pair of sharp, alluring eyes. 

If it weren’t for the fact that he was already a pretty shitty driver, Lance would’ve kept staring at those eyes in his mirror and ignored the road.

A soft chime sounded and Lance glanced down quickly before returning his gaze to the stranger. He didn’t seem to notice anything, his eyes staring out the window but following nothing, and Lance simply moved his hand to turn his mile counter, fee calculator, and his taxi light off.

He was off duty now, but he didn’t stop driving.

There were no words exchanged, and the handsome man’s face still hadn’t softened, and Lance was kind of distraught. He usually distanced himself from whatever life problems his passengers were having, but something was drawing him to this guy. He couldn’t put a finger on it aside from the definite attraction that was there. It was just… _ happening _ . He wanted to know more about what was upsetting this man, and he wanted to  _ help _ .

And two hours had already passed since he’d turned off his light.

He pulled over somewhere—he wasn’t really sure where they were until he spotted his favorite bar—and turned the car off. And then Lance twisted in his seat to look at his passenger, and the furrow in the man’s brow was still there. He hadn’t moved, so he clearly hadn’t noticed that the car was no longer moving, and that made Lance’s chest squeeze.

_ Jeez, chill. You just met the guy _ , he told himself, internally laughing at his own dilemma.

“Bro,” he finally broke the silence, watching as the man jumped a little and looked up at him, those striking eyes just as pretty in the streetlights. “I don’t mean to pry and you sure as hell don’t have to tell me ‘cause I’m just a taxi driver, but you look like you could use someone to talk to. You’ve just been glaring out the window for three hours and haven’t said a word. You need to vent?”

He looked at his watch in response, his mouth dropped slightly in surprise, and then he reached for his briefcase.

“I’m sorry. How much do I owe?”

“Dude, you didn’t answer my question,” he wasn’t sure why he was pressing him, but Lance didn’t want him to leave. Not without at least stealing a smile out of the deal.

Business Hottie, as Lance decided to call him in his head for now, stared back at the driver’s determined expression. His emotions flickered across his features, too quickly for Lance to read any of them with success, and finally he turned his eyes down, hair falling into his eyes. That look pretty much killed Lance, because Business Hottie looked extremely  _ cute _ when he looked so uncertain. It wasn’t cool to think that way, but Lance couldn’t help himself.

He didn’t think that the handsome guy would bother answering. He waited for Business Hottie to give him an address or something, but it was not forthcoming. So he searched the other man’s downturned face for signs.

Man, he couldn’t get  _ anything _ from him. But the silent type was hot, too, and Lance added it to the growing list of reasons why Business Hottie was just his type.

“…They’ve replaced me.”

The voice caught the driver completely by surprise and he did a double take as his passenger lifted his face. 

“Eh?” he said, intelligently. And then he shook his head and asked, “Like, at work or something?”

He received a curt nod, and the other man sagged back against his seat. The way he sprawled out like that only sent Lance’s heart into his throat, because  _ damn _ , he looked good. His suit might have been wrinkled from the day and from his hours of silent contemplation in the back of a taxi, but that disheveled look was perfect on him.

“Because I have a… _ quick _ temper,” Business Hottie begrudgingly admitted. “They interviewed new people behind my back…and told me I was done today.”

“Wait.  _ Today _ ?” Lance asked incredulously, his brain struggling to catch up. “Did they even give you any warning?”

The gloomy man shook his head no.

“Oh, that’s  _ bullshit _ ,” Lance blurted before he could think better of it. “What happened to the thing called  _ job security _ ? Jeez, if you’re gonna hire a taxi driver to replace me at least tell me when you’re doing the fuckin’ interviews!”

A snort of derisive laughter sounded. 

“Yeah, a bit of warning would have been nice.”

There was a brief silence, and the taxi driver came to an abrupt conclusion as he looked at the grudgingly resigned expression on the other man’s face.

“…Y’know what?” Lance yanked the keys from the ignition and opened the door, stepping to the back to pull that door open, too. The handsome man looked up at him in surprise and with some level of suspicion, and Lance grinned openly. He had nothing to hide. He just wanted Business Hottie to smile. “My favorite bar is actually right down this street, so let’s go have a drink. You buy me a beer and I’ll forget the extra cab fare, just this once. Relatively cheap, all things considered.”

Lance thought he was going to refuse. After all, who  _ wouldn’t _ , honestly, in that situation? 

But after a few moments, Business Hottie climbed out of the car, rolled his shoulders, and said bluntly, “I could really use a drink.”

The taxi driver grinned and locked the doors to his car, beckoning for the other man to follow him. “All right!  _ Voltron _ is just over here. It’s a small place, but the owners are super cool and my friends are bartenders so if I’m lucky, sometimes I get a shot or two on the house. Isn’t that awesome?”

Business Hottie just kind of grunted in response, but Lance didn’t let that get him down. He’d learned in their brief conversation that this man was one of few words. It was okay, though, because he was cute.

“Ah! Shiro’s a bouncer tonight!” Lance’s surprise leaked into his tone. For his companion’s benefit, though, Lance elaborated, “I haven’t seen him for a while. He’s taken on a few security guard jobs so usually someone else fills in as a bouncer.”

The other man remained silent, but he was still following Lance, so he took it as a good sign.

“Yo, Shiro!” Lance grinned as he stepped up, pulling out his ID. Shiro might be a fairly chill older guy, but he still asked for IDs from regulars as a precaution. “What’s up?”

“Hey, Lance,” he said, giving the offered ID a cursory glance. He then turned to Business Hottie and accepted his ID, taking a quick look. Recognition dawned on his face, and he looked up as if he was going to speak, but he didn’t address the new guy. Lance kind of wished he had, because that was definitely a look that made him curious. Instead, Shiro turned back to the taxi driver. “I’ve been working security over at Bank Arus, where the Holts work.”

“All the Holts but  _ Pidge _ ,” Lance winked at Shiro and took his companion by the elbow. “Is she bartending tonight?”

Sighing, Shiro averted his gaze and said, “Hunk kicked her off for a while. She’s sulking and cleaning tables.”

“Ah, good. Hunk makes the best drinks!” Lance laughed, pulling Business Hottie towards the door. “No offense to your  _ girlfriend _ !”

He rushed through the doors then, laughing like an idiot, and was actually mildly surprised that the other man had simply followed his example without question. And then he realized that he still didn’t know Business Hottie’s name.

“Ah, shit, man,” he turned and offered his right hand for a handshake. “I forgot the most important thing! The name’s Lance, if you hadn’t already figured that out.”

“…Keith.”

He shook Lance’s outstretched hand and the taxi driver grinned. This was great progress. He now knew Business Hottie’s  _ name _ and had managed to get a handshake. That contact was a start, at least.

“Nice to meet you!” Lance winked and motioned him over to a few stools at the bar, where his large friend was bustling around making drinks. “Hey, Hunk, hook us up over here!”

The duo took seats as Hunk beamed at him. “Lance! How’s it goin’, man?”

“It’s going,” Lance laughed. “What’s the recommendation tonight?”

“Haven’t decided yet,” Hunk shrugged. “I’ve been trying a few new things out. I’ve mixed this one that balances sweet and sour really, really well but I can’t find someone willing to try it. And then I’ve made something really strong that knocked those three guys on their asses after one or two,” he motioned vaguely to the table that three very,  _ very _ drunk men were sitting at. “And then there was one I made that was salvaging whatever Pidge was trying to make. It was kind of strong, but also surprisingly mellow?”

“I’ll try the one no one wants to try if you’ll give me one on the house,” Lance waggled his eyebrows teasingly. Hunk snorted, but a few moments later he was pulling bottles towards him and working his magic.

“Just this once, Lance, I swear,” Hunk said, but Lance heard that for his first drink almost every night and he’d learned not to believe his teddy bear of a friend when he threatened to stop giving him free booze. “And what about your friend here?” he looked at Business Hottie with a welcoming grin. “The name’s Hunk, Bartender Extraordinaire. Heard anything that sounds interesting, or would you like something else?”

Keith’s head was turned and Lance followed his gaze to the table with the drunks. And then the disgruntled businessman turned to Hunk and said, “Give me the strong one.”

Hunk raised an eyebrow, but let a warm peal of laughter escape. “A brave decision, young Padowan. It’ll be right up!”

As Hunk puttered around, Lance placed his chin in his hand and cast an appraising glance across Keith in the dim light of the bar. He looked even better from the side, his perfect profile the only thing that Lance could focus on. Until he turned his gaze to the driver, raising an eyebrow questioningly, and the smitten man had to fumble for something to say.

“So…these assholes. Which company was it?”

_ Ouch.  _ Not the right thing to say.

Keith, however, just sighed and looked back up at the shelves of booze behind the bar. When he finally spoke, it was as if he was forcing the words out, “…Galaxy Garrison.”

Lance, however, nearly toppled from his stool.

“Wait, wait, wait. You mean the one that makes all the military weapons and shit?  _ That _ Galaxy Garrison?!”

Keith cocked an eyebrow.

“Most people don’t know that,” he drawled, tilting his chin to the side in a way that made heat crawl up the back of Lance’s neck.  _ Maybe I should have ordered the stronger one, too… _

“I, uh, um…” Lance sheepishly looked away. “I was a driver for them for a while. Until I, uh, wrecked one of the trucks…”

Those black brows that hold all of Keith’s expressions shoot up into his hairline and he finally, incredulously, speaks, “Don’t tell me it was you that botched the delivery to the Altean Embassy two years ago?”

“Oh my  _ God _ ,” Lance groaned, dropping his head to the countertop. “I was hoping you wouldn’t know about it! It was awful!”

“You crashed the truck into the fucking  _ pool _ next door,” Keith deadpanned, but then he made an odd sound and Lance peeked out of the circle of his own arms to see that the businessman was trying to hold back a laugh. “I was  _ there _ . I thought you had  _ stolen _ the truck, because the Garrison couldn’t have possibly hired a driver that bad!”

And then Keith started laughing, humor diffusing across his face so well that Lance forced himself to sit up just to watch. He had been  _ so right _ when he’d decided that Keith would be even more attractive when he smiled, and now his heart was racing in his chest. This was the moment that Lance realized he was in far more trouble than he had expected.

_ Oh shit he’s even hotter than I thought. Fuck.  _

And just as the hot former businessman started to calm down and Lance turned to ask Hunk what was taking so long because  _ fuck I need a drink and I need it now _ , his wishes were answered. His drink and Keith’s drink were plunked unceremoniously on the counter in front of them, and Hunk gave them a grin.

“Both of them are on me, but you guys are on your own from there, ‘kay?” he laughed, and then as Keith lifted his glass, sniffing it curiously before drinking, Hunk cast an all-knowing wink at Lance. He knew Lance’s type and he knew it well, because as former roommates they’d had several drunken heart-to-hearts. He knew how much shit Lance was in now, because Keith was filling all the holes that had been in his mind’s eye of the ideal man.

“Hear, hear!” Lance brought out his boisterous charm in an attempt to hide the burning that was diffusing across his cheeks. “Cheers!” he picked up his glass and clinked it lightly but enthusiastically against Keith’s before turning his gaze away to take a big drink.

He didn’t notice that Keith’s eyes were watching him closely, examining everything from his wildest actions to how red his ears already were even though his drink couldn’t possibly be affecting him yet. He casually lifted his own glass as Lance finally slammed his own back down, half empty, and let himself smile a little.

Nothing to do with this insane taxi driver, though. Nothing at all.

“Damn, Hunk, that’s  _ good _ !” Lance laughed loudly—and  _ no _ , it wasn’t forced at  _ all _ , thank you very much—as the bartender rolled his eyes. “Why wouldn’t anyone else try it?”

“Because they saw what the other drink did to the three stooges,” a grumpy voice said, and Pidge pushed behind the bar to wash the glasses on her tray. “Hunk, when are you going to let me go back to my actual job?”

“When you swear not to experiment with my recipes again!”

The petite woman groaned and retorted, “How many times do I have to  _ tell _ you, I wasn’t experimenting with it!”

“Then that’s even  _ worse _ !” Hunk looked affronted. “If you weren’t experimenting, how did you mess it up so bad?! I mean, I get accidentally getting the ratios a little off because that happens all the time, but you completely switched recipes halfway through! I have no idea what you were thinking! This is why you’re always on table duty, I swear!”

Lance chuckled at their interaction. Hunk was very protective of the menu that he and Coran had concocted together over the last couple of years. He may be a genius with mechanics and hold an engineering job during the day, but Hunk was almost more proud of his culinary and bartending skill. If someone botched one of his drinks…well, Hunk didn’t let them off very easily. And Lance couldn’t stop laughing because Pidge, for all her own genius, was the worst offender.

“This is good,” Keith’s voice, soft but surprised, piped up and Lance tried to contain himself, turning to the man he’d brought in. He swirled his glass, watching the alcohol swirl, and grinned a little. “It is pretty strong, though.”

And then his expression changed. It looked like the face of a man who had just accepted a challenge, and Lance was incredibly curious. He was so focused on the other man that he even caught when Keith’s sharp eyes flicked over to the three men who had fallen victim to his current drink. And then his eyes narrowed and he lifted the glass.

“Whoa!” Lance couldn’t say anything else as Keith tilted his drink back without hesitation. This drew Hunk’s and Pidge’s attention and both of them just stared.

“Whoa, man, you sure you wanna do that?!” Hunk questioned, his voice squeaking just a little at the end. Keith showed no sign of stopping until he was finished, when his glass clunked back to the bar with a final  _ clunk _ and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Another,” he offered a confident smirk that had Lance’s stomach doing a few flips. And then he looked at Lance and quirked an eyebrow. “You still have your drink?”

Oh.

_ Oh. _

That was a  _ challenge _ . And that smirk that played at the dark-haired man’s lips was killer. It was the perfect expression to send Lance into a whirlwind of  _ oh fuck he’s so hot _ and  _ I’m not going to let you beat me! _

He smirked back and grabbed his own drink without a moment’s hesitation. He threw it back and asked, cheekily, “What drink are you talking about? Hunk, I need another over here!”

Hunk only smiled his knowing smile, turning back to mixing after he’d placed Keith’s new drink in front of him. Pidge, on the other hand, smirked at Lance, and it made his skin crawl. She had a huge brain in that tiny head of hers and whenever she put it to work, she could make plans to put even the best tacticians to shame. It was probably why she advised Allura, the bar’s owner.

Funny, really, that her family chose financial investment and banking when that kind of talent was in the whole bunch.

Lance cast a grin at Keith, who was watching him with an amused expression. He felt his ears burning under that piercing gaze, but he held it as Hunk finally passed him his new drink. And then he held his glass out for a toast and was granted with the full force of Business Hottie’s challenging smirk.

_ Oh, I’m done for _ .

* * *

 

When Keith asked for his sixth drink, Lance was flabbergasted. Two of those same drinks had knocked out a table of three guys, but the hot, recently fired businessman was taking them like a champ. That red flush on his face was super attractive, though, and Lance knew it meant that he was starting to feel the booze.

Lance had to admit that this guy could definitely hold his drink. He was on his second of the same thing, rather than having another of the sweet and sour concoction, and he could feel it already.

But then Keith turned and flashed Lance another smile—a smile, not a smirk—and Lance nearly swooned. It should have been fucking  _ impossible _ for a guy to meet his incredibly high standards. Girls? Girls met his standards pretty easily…but while he liked guys, too, none of them had matched his ideals so perfectly. His attitude, his looks,  _ everything _ about this guy had Lance’s stomach twisting and turning and fluttering with butterflies.

Lance was smitten. There wasn’t any other way to describe it. But no matter how much he wanted to just  _ go for it _ , there was the part of him that whispered,  _ not everyone is as open as you are _ . Maybe Keith had a girlfriend or something.

So he held it in, though the looks Keith kept giving him were only adding fuel to the fire.

“Hey, Lance,” the man in question spoke slowly after lifting his glass, turning back to the taxi driver. Lance started at being addressed so suddenly, but then grinned back. He couldn’t  _ not _ grin when someone so…so  _ perfect _ was here with him.

“Yeah, buddy?”

Keith’s glazed stare was calculating, and then he grinned again, taking a huge swig. When his glass hit the counter, he motioned Lance closer even as he encouraged, “Come here for a minute.”

And then, when Lance leaned in, curious, the other man caught him completely off guard.

In a movement so quick that Lance barely realized what was happening, Keith had reached out with one hand, fingers wrapping around the back of Lance’s neck and tangling in his hair. And then he pulled Lance in as he leaned forward to press their lips together.

For the split second that Keith’s warm breath had washed across his face, Lance had been one  _ thousand _ percent sure he was dreaming, but then that second ended and all rational thought disappeared as he blinked stupidly, staring blankly at Keith’s eyelids.

_ Keith’s eyelids. _

In a heartbeat, Lance collected himself and reached up with his own hand, cupping the curve of Keith’s cheek as he kissed back, his eyes fluttering closed. There was a sound, somewhere deep in Keith’s throat, that made the bottom of Lance’s stomach drop out. It was somewhere between lust and need, and Lance thought he knew exactly how the other man felt. And, maybe he could blame some of it on the alcohol, but Lance was done waiting to figure out his boundaries.

They broke for air, and Keith looked up at him with half-lidded eyes and a smirk that Lance just couldn’t ignore, so he leaned forward to kiss the corner of his mouth. And then the other corner. His earlobe. Lance pressed light kisses to each part of Keith’s face, and he encountered no objections, no refusals. Keith’s fingers only became even more entangled in Lance’s hair and brought them closer again.

And then Lance leaned forward, pressing his lips to Keith’s again with a fervor that far outmatched their first kiss. Without pausing for permission, he slipped his tongue past the other man’s slightly parted lips. The taste of alcohol on Keith’s tongue was tangy and sharp but the taste of  _ Keith _ was more than enough to spur Lance forward. And the feeling of their tongues twining together was  _ everything _ —Lance was reeling and feeling and he didn’t think he could ever get enough of this kiss, this taste—and when Keith pulled Lance even closer, he thought all of his dreams had come true.

But even the best dreams come to an end, and this one in the form of a slightly amused bartender.

“Lance, as much as I love you, man, can you take your makeout to somewhere aside from the bar?” Hunk’s voice cut across, only just as Lance released Keith to breathe. And he felt his cheeks flush as he turned his head slowly to his friend. Pidge was snickering behind the burlier bartender, and Hunk just quirked an eyebrow. Lance glared and started to open his mouth before he felt hot breath wash across his ear, sending a jolt up his spine.

“My place is close,” Keith murmured, brushing his lips and _ oh God that’s his tongue _ across the shell of Lance’s ear. The low quality of his voice made Lance nearly lose all control right there and the added inducement of Keith’s clever tongue made his heart race.

_ Oh, fuck. _

Lance reached forward for his glass and downed it, slamming it unceremoniously back down on the wooden countertop. Keith chuckled—oh, lord, he was so  _ perfect _ , especially that laugh—and followed suit.

“Let it be known that I’m not leaving because you asked and that we will have  _ words _ later,” Lance told Hunk in as serious a voice as he could muster. He pulled out a wad of cash and shoved it at the bartender. “For our tabs. See ya!”

As he stood, he offered a salute as his farewell. And then he held out a hand to Keith, who grinned and took it. His hand was warm and strong and fit perfectly inside Lance’s slightly larger hand. Satisfied with this knowledge, and knowing he might not get the chance to feel it again after whatever happened tonight, he gave it a squeeze as he pulled Keith to his feet.

“I thought I was paying for one of yours,” Keith questioned, raising an eyebrow in a quizzical manner.

“I didn’t order a beer,” Lance shrugged, vaguely recalling his quip earlier in the evening.

“Hmmm,” Keith just hummed, smiling to himself as Lance pulled him toward the door. Walking, however, was just a touch more like stumbling than he’d like and progress was slow. And then Keith spoke up again, “Hang on a second.”

Lance paused obligingly and was a little dismayed when Keith pulled his hand away. But he shifted his grip on his suitcase and then—to Lance’s pure excitement—slid his arm around the taxi driver’s waist. Not to be outdone, Lance dropped his arm around the businessman’s shoulders with a flirty grin.

“Ready now?” he asked, trying to ignore the burning heat he felt where their bodies were touching.

“Let’s go,” Keith agreed, looking up at Lance with eyes that were filled with desire. And then he leaned up to kiss Lance again, which fried what was left of the taller man’s rationality.

_ Oh, man, I am so fucking screwed _ .

* * *

 

After departing the bar, with a farewell and a warning to be careful from Shiro at the door, Keith led the way down a side street, murmuring directions as he went. They hadn’t gone very far when Lance paused, and the action pulled the shorter man to a halt.

“Lance?” Keith questioned, looking back at him. And then Lance was wrapping his arms around him, pulling their bodies close together as he lowered his lips to brush them across Keith’s cheek.

“You started this,” Lance breathed in his ear then, and he felt a shudder go through the businessman.  _ That’s right _ , he thought, a victorious grin crawling across his lips. And when he pulled back to see the look in Keith’s eyes, Lance couldn’t help but steal his lips again, enjoying the feeling of the shorter man’s fingers scrabbling for purchase on his back before they locked into position and hungrily drew Lance closer.

“My…place,” Keith’s voice was husky and low when Lance finally gave them both room to breathe. “ _ Now _ .”

Leaning forward, chest constricting painfully with his own desire, Lance brushed another soft kiss against Keith’s waiting lips before murmuring, “Lead the way.”

And Keith did, pulling Lance by the hand and leading him with flirty grins and alluring eyes.

When he paused outside of a third floor apartment, fumbling for keys, Lance pinned him between his arms and leaned forward to nuzzle his neck, sending a shiver up his spine. His lips trailed along the curve of Keith’s ear, and he paused to gently bite his earlobe. Keith groaned softly, finally managing to shove his key into the lock. He was trembling under the soft kisses Lance was pressing to his neck, and Lance relished the moment.

The door clicked open and Lance leaned back a little, satisfied with the red that had appeared at the tips of Keith’s ears. A solid thump sounded and Lance realized that the businessman had tossed his suitcase, and then he turned to size up the taxi driver in the doorway. His hands shot out and grabbed two fistfuls of Lance’s jacket, giving him a yank that pulled him, yelping softly, across the threshold and right into Keith himself.

With strength that Lance hadn’t entirely been expecting, he found himself pushed against the door, and heard it close beneath his weight.

“You were right,” Keith breathed, looking up at Lance with a fire in his eyes. “I  _ did _ start this,” he lifted his chin, pressing a soft kiss to Lance’s jaw. And another. And  _ another _ . Lance thought it was torture—sweet, sweet torture. And then that challenge sparked in Keith’s eyes again as he asked, tone low and resonant, “Are you going to finish it?”

Lance groaned aloud, deep in his throat, and Keith chuckled against his neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses in his wake.

“Am  _ I _ going to have to finish what I started?” he very nearly purred, pressing closer to Lance as his breath washed across Lance’s collarbone. Lance had to bite his lip to prevent another sound from escaping and finally,  _ finally _ , found the courage to meet Keith’s unwavering gaze. Oh, he was definitely being challenged. And it was  _ fucking hot _ .

Two could play this game.

Lance smirked at the thought, reaching to pull Keith closer against him as he leaned down and teased, “Do you  _ want _ me to finish it?”

When Lance pressed a hot kiss to Keith’s pulse, the shorter man arched into him. Lance grinned against his porcelain skin as he moved his fingers under Keith’s suit jacket. As if reading his mind, Keith dropped his arms, reluctantly, from Lance’s chest so that the taller man could gently push his jacket from his shoulders. It fell to the floor in a crumpled heap, and Lance took in the slightly disheveled man in front of him, left in a white button-up, red tie, and what looked like a black tee underneath.

_ Oh, he couldn’t wait to peel those layers off _ .

Impatiently, Keith held onto Lance’s coat again and pulled himself up, pressing his lips firmly against the taller man’s. And then he took one hand away, fumbling until Lance heard the definitive  _ click _ of the door locking. His heart leapt and he found himself kissing back with even more vigor than before. Fingers raked up his chest and he felt Keith shoving at his trusty green coat.

Eager to oblige, Lance let those slim fingers guide his sleeves away, and as soon as Keith pulled him away from the door, his coat slid to the ground with a muffled  _ thwump _ . Whatever had been in the pockets, Lance found he didn’t particularly care, because Keith was guiding him farther into the apartment, walking backwards slowly as he fumbled to unbutton his own shirt.

It fell over the back of an armchair and Lance was able to feast upon the skintight black tee that remained. He grinned hungrily down at Keith, slipping his hands under the hem of the black shirt. The dark-haired man sucked in a breath as Lance ran his hands across a well-defined set of abs, slowly inching the shirt up as he did so.

“Is this alright?” he breathed, kissing the side of Keith’s neck.

“ _ Yes. _ ”

At the soft, eager word, Lance pulled back to finish what he’d started, and then he took a moment to simply  _ admire _ .

Keith had the body of a fucking Greek  _ god _ . He was all lithe muscle and chiseled  _ perfection _ , and Lance was amazed that such a person existed. He had suspected that Keith was a closet athlete, of course, from the easy grace with which he moved, but he hadn’t quite expected him to be a real life  _ Adonis _ .

“Like what you see?” Keith slinked forward, running a slender, strong hand up under Lance’s blue-grey shirt. Everywhere he touched, Lance felt fireworks igniting his skin. He smirked, leaning into the touch.

“And if I do?” he purred, and Keith’s fingers on his stomach faltered for a split second. And for that moment, he thought he had won.

In a few seconds, however, Keith had whipped Lance’s shirt over his head and tossed it somewhere behind him with a  _ come at me _ smirk firmly in place. With his heart firmly lodged in his throat, Lance knew that the next words out of this man’s mouth would probably unravel him. Even knowing that, he wouldn’t miss them for anything.

And Keith ran a single finger down the center of Lance’s chest, all the way down until he hooked his fingers under Lance’s belt.

“If you like what you see,” he started pulling, backing through a dark doorway as he continued with a suggestive smile, “ _ then I’ll have to let you see more _ .”

* * *

 

Nearly a week had passed since what Lance could only describe as  _ the best fucking night of his life _ , and he still couldn’t forget about those striking eyes, that godlike physique, that singularly  _ perfect _ human being that had made his life complete for that one instant and made it bleak for the rest of  _ forever _ .

Lance still remembered waking up the next morning, a slight headache pounding in his skull but otherwise none the worse for wear, and seeing the embodiment of perfection waking beside him. He remembered checking the time and realizing, grudgingly, that he had to be on duty in his taxi in about an hour, which meant he needed to go home and have a shower and a bite to eat, but watching Keith blinking at him with a slow grin had only made it harder to leave.

He’d left anyway, pausing to steal one more soft kiss from the man he might never see again, hearing the disheveled god murmur, “ _ Thanks _ ,” as he departed, shrugging back into his clothes from the night before.

He let out a sigh, long and drawn out, and Hunk gave him a look. Lance tried his best to ignore it. They were the bartenders on schedule for the evening, but the night was young and customers were scarce. Lance could sigh as wistfully as he wanted, and only Hunk was there to judge him.

“C’mon, man,” the burly bartender clapped him on the shoulder. “If you’re  _ that _ mopey, why don’t you try to find him again?”

“Bro, if he wants to find me again, he knows I’m a regular here,” Lance quipped back, leaning backwards against the bar and staring up at the shelves of alcohol. He didn’t mention the number he’d left, tucked behind the aftershave in Keith’s medicine cabinet above the sink. He couldn’t, because mentioning it meant acknowledging that Keith hadn’t found it yet or that he had, and he was just ignoring it. “There’s a reason it’s called a  _ one night stand _ , Hunk.”

“Yeah, well,” Hunk leaned forward, as if he was going to tell Lance a big secret. “One night stands don’t really work that well if you can’t stop thinking about him afterwards, buddy.”

Lance groaned and pushed himself off the counter, away from Hunk.

“Yeah, but…!” he tossed his hands up, his fingers mussing his own hair. “I  _ can’t _ , Hunk. I just…need to get it out of my system. He had a rough day, we had a few drinks. He probably doesn’t want to see me again.”

“But you want to see him.”

“ _ Of course I do! _ ” Lance whined. He felt  _ pathetic _ . “He’s fuckin’  _ perfect _ , Hunk. I’d have to be crazy not to want to see him again. But…I’m just  _ me _ . He’s a business guy and he’s ten thousand times better than I deserve because I’m just a _ failure _ . I drive a taxi in the day and work part time as a bartender.  _ I have nothing to offer _ .”

“Well, maybe he doesn’t  _ want _ anything you have to  _ offer _ . Maybe he wants you for you,” Hunk pointed out, ever the optimist.

Lance had to snort.

“Who wants a bum like me for  _ me _ ?”                           

Hunk sighed, putting the glass he’d been cleaning down with a solid  _ clunk _ . He turned his torso towards Lance and began, “Now listen up, Lance, because this  _ might _ be a bit of a surprise to you.  _ Not everyone wants something from you _ . I’m your friend, not because of anything you can give me but because of who you are, bro. Pidge is our friend, not because she can tease you mercilessly but because you give it right back. That’s  _ who you are _ , man, not  _ what you have _ . And I saw him giving you the eye the other night, so this  _ Keith _ or whatever his name is was at least  _ attracted _ to you. There’s always a chance he wants to see you again, too, so why not just go for it?”

“I…I  _ can’t _ ,” Lance couldn’t come up with a reason that was good enough.

“You’ll never get anywhere with him if you’re so afraid of being rejected,” Hunk’s words cut like a knife—right to the source of the problem. “I have to admit, though, I never took you for that kind of guy, Lance. You’ve always been confident, and a  _ total _ flirt. I’ve never once seen you expecting to  _ fail _ when you want to hit on someone.”

“I…can’t believe it,” Lance flopped onto the floor, right where he was. Hunk jumped and looked down as Lance threw himself backwards, sprawling on the floor and dropping his arm over his eyes. “I can’t  _ believe  _ it! Of all the things it could possibly be, I’m afraid of  _ rejection _ . Fucking  _ rejection _ .  _ Shit _ .”

Hunk snorted, looking down at him. Lance’s antics never got old, no matter how many years their friendship lasted.                   

He opened his mouth but at the last second, instead of speaking to Lance, he turned to greet someone at the counter that the man on the floor couldn’t see. “Oh, hey man! Nice to see you again! What can I get ya this time?”

The answer was little more than a murmur, but Lance pouted at being ignored and decided that he would just sprawl where he was for a while. Hunk glanced down at him and snorted, kicking him in the foot as he started filling a mug with beer. He tried to make some small talk, but it seemed like the other person wasn’t really in a talkative mood, so he started to hum as he worked.

He kept looking down at Lance, and the part time bartender just stuck his tongue out, as any mature adult lying spread eagle across the floor would do.

When Hunk filled the second mug for the customer Lance couldn’t see, he figured that he should probably get up off the floor. The regulars would be pouring in any minute now, and Hunk would probably need a hand with that.

“Huuuuunk,” he whined. “Help me uuuuup!”

Hunk glanced down and snorted, but offered him a hand. Surprisingly, he didn’t say anything, but he was grinning and there was a twinkle in his eye. Lance was immediately suspicious, but didn’t ask as Hunk helped him up. The ornery taxi driver groaned, as if it was hard work, and stretched his arms above his head, yawning. And then he opened his eyes to casually thank his burly friend when he spotted the customer at the bar.

His arms dropped slowly as their eyes met, and he saw his own surprise mirrored in those  _ perfect _ eyes.

“Now that you’re done being underfoot,” Hunk elbowed him in the ribs, “make yourself useful and get to work!”

If Lance’s vocal chords had been capable of making any sound other than a strangled squeak that was supposed to be some form of agreement, his face wouldn’t have started burning immediately afterwards. But, at the same time, Keith might not have snorted, allowing a chuckle to spread happiness across a face that was definitely more haggard than the last time they’d seen each other.

Hunk made himself scarce, heading out to buss a few tables, and Lance was at a loss for words.

Lance, the resident flirt with the smooth moves and cheesy pickup lines, was completely floundering and out of his element. He wanted to kick himself, but instead he tried to find words. And after a valiant struggle, he managed a slightly hoarse, “H-hey.”

The warmth in Keith’s expression only increased and Lance felt his heart struggling to break free of its skeletal confines. And then Keith groaned a little, dropping his chin to his hand and staring up at Lance with a mildly annoyed… _ pout _ ?  _ Oh my God, he’s not allowed to be cute on top of everything else! _

“Dammit, Lance,” his voice hitched a little, and Lance wondered what he had done wrong until Keith asked, “why are you so fucking  _ cute _ ?”

Wait.

_ What _ ?

“Me?  _ Cute? But that’s my line! _ ” Lance protested, flabbergasted, before he realized what had slipped out of his mouth. He felt his neck and ears and  _ everything _ start burning.

“ _ That _ ,” Keith sat forward, “right there.  _ That reaction _ . And you’re blushing clear to the tips of your ears. It’s so  _ cute _ I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lance lied, the flush burning down his neck. “I don’t  _ blush _ . And  _ you’re _ one to talk! How is it possible for you to be so damn  _ cute _ on top of having the physique of a fucking Greek god?” he pointed an accusing finger, and then realized that he’d admitted something even worse.

He had flat out admitted to idolizing Keith’s  _ figure _ , and the mortification only made his face grow even hotter.

Keith, however, flushed lightly and then that smirk, the one that pushed Lance over the edge, crawled across his features. “Oh,  _ really _ ?” he drawled, taking a long drink of his beer. “It sounds like I’m not the only one who hasn’t been able to get someone off his mind,  _ hmm _ ?”

Lance gulped, and he couldn’t pretend that his entire body wasn’t on fire from his embarrassment anymore.

“ _ Tell me about it _ ,” another voice rang, and Hunk was back, smirking at Lance in a way that said,  _ I’m going to embarrass the living shit out of you, man _ . “He hasn’t stopped moping around all week, and he wouldn’t do anything about it so please,  _ please _ tell me you’re here to hit on him.”

“ _ Hunk! _ ” Lance’s voice breached a pitch that only Pidge had ever been able to reach before, and Hunk started laughing.

He wasn’t the only one laughing. Keith had nearly knocked over his beer, and he was laughing just as hard as the bigger man was. But the main difference was the color seeping onto his features—a red that crawled up his neck and made Lance’s chest tighten. At least  _ he _ wasn’t the only one being affected by Hunk’s meddling.

“That…you  _ squeaked _ !” Keith managed to wheeze, his eyes shining from his mirth as he looked up to Lance. “I  _ told you _ that you were  _ cute _ !”

“So you  _ did _ come to hit on him! Thank  _ God _ ,” Hunk sagged against the bar in exaggerated relief. “I’m going to just take a few beers out to those guys and let you proceed, then, don’t mind me!”

Chuckling, he ducked behind Lance to get four bottles of beer and then made his way back out around the counter, unable to completely hide his cheer. He was happy over his little joke, but Lance was rooted in place, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck as he tried—and failed—to ignore the burning sensation that covered his face.

Lance heard Keith clear his throat and peered at him, almost shyly. This was, after all, the most  _ flawless _ human being he’d ever  _ seen _ . And it felt like he was looking into Lance’s very  _ soul _ with those eyes, eyes that were clear and bright and drawing his attention so thoroughly that he couldn’t look away. And when Keith grinned, those eyes twinkled, “Let’s do this the right way. Hi, I’m Keith.”

He held out his hand, and Lance reflexively reached out to take it. “Lance.”

“Hey, Lance,” Keith pulled him a little closer, though there wasn’t much space to be had with the bar between them, “I think you’re really cute. What time do you get off work?”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> THE STORY:
> 
> Priya and I were chatting on discord and she was interrupted whilst writing a Klance makeout by her father, who wanted to talk about having taken a taxi that day. That is literally all it took to inspire THIS FIC. Taxis and Klance.
> 
> What is life.
> 
> Hit me up on tumblr at either [battleshidge](http://battleshidge.tumblr.com) or at [panda013](http://panda013.tumblr.com)! :)


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